Making Mr Right
by slyprentice
Summary: The first time that Jarvis opened his eyes Tony knew he was pretty much doomed. Tony/Jarvis.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Making Mr. Right (or the epic love story of a boy and his android)**  
Author:** Prentice  
**Rating**: Mature  
**Fandom**: Iron Man (movie-verse), The Avengers (at some point later)  
**Pairing**: Android!Jarvis/Tony  
**Notes**: _For those who haven't already gathered from the pairing itself, this fic is going to diverge from movie canon pretty widely (at least at first) and isn't meant to be taken super seriously. Also, Tony has a filthy mouth in this so get ready to clutch your pearls if that offends you. Enjoy!_

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**Chapter 1**

The first time that Jarvis opened his eyes Tony knew he was pretty much doomed. It hadn't really matter that he was all of fifteen – technically fourteen and a half but Tony wasn't counting (no, really, he wasn't) - because the thing of it was, Tony was a precocious little shit at the ripe old age of _four_, and being at MIT just kind of being awesome _all the time_ hadn't really changed that. So, really, for him to have realized that he was so beyond fucked wasn't really that surprising.

Neither was it surprising that he pretty much got bitch slapped by emotions by something he, you know, created for himself. That was kind of inevitable if you asked him. No, what _was_ surprising, was that it was Jarvis that Tony got all emotionally fucked up over.

Jarvis – or, well, Just A Rather Very Intelligent System, but that was a fucking _mouthful_ and Tony wasn't saying that shit all the time. Anyway, it was _Jarvis_, who Tony had built with his own two hands, who he labored over for fucking weeks and months – years, really, because Jarvis had always been in the back of Tony's mind in some form or another – that he was kind of having an internal meltdown over.

It was Jarvis, who Tony had spent weeks upon weeks on, working on his programming parameters so he wouldn't go nuts and try to turn Tony into the Borg or something in the middle of the night. And, okay, really it was just that one weekend that blurred together in a haze of stale pizza, energy drinks, and jittering nerves, hunched over a completely fucking rebuilt computer – because the computers at MIT were absolute shit no matter what anyone told you – and just kind of losing himself in Jarvis's fiddly bits, but it counted. It counted completely, mostly because it had _felt_ like weeks coming out the other side of that weekend and realizing holy fuck he was tired and it was Monday and he had class, are you shitting me?

It was Jarvis, who Tony had scavenged magazine photos a la a _Weird Science_ montage just to find the right kind of smile to work as a base for. There would be no shark teeth smiles here, thank you. It would just be a smooth quirk of lips that Jarvis' internal programming could experiment with while Tony worked on his new framework – _that_ had been a really weird week. What with that dead body looking frame randomly smiling in the corner, sometimes (most of the time) at the oddest of times, like when Tony was jerking off while reading that article in Popular Mechanics, a running innuendo filled commentary just sort of spewing out of his mouth because he really had no sensor whatsoever.

Jarvis, who Tony had built with his own blood, sweat, and tears (and a fuck load of Red Bull, he really should buy stock one day). With late, late nights and bone-deep exhaustion that left him wired, maybe too wired, for all his classes. Jarvis, who's Tony's first real friend – fuck that popsicle stand and all the flavorless popsicles in it – and whose personality emerges after a few days like the sun after a storm, bright and sharp and startling but so fucking welcome that Tony basks in it a while before realizing he hadn't programmed that much fucking snark, holy shit, this was going to be _awesome_.

But, anyway, back to the point.

Looking into Jarvis's eyes for the first time – eyes so blue they're practically glowing and was it Tony's imagination but had they seemed to flash-burn when they looked at him? – and seeing that strange pinched expression, like he was processing far too much sensory information at once and just had no fucking clue what to _do_ with it all…well…

Doomed was definitely a pretty good word for what he was. Doomed. Fucked. Going to be fucked – though not right now, not when Tony was underage, because even though Tony hadn't programmed Jarvis to be a _gentleman_ he somehow _was_ and that only further sealed the impending doom of the situation, Jesus _Christ_.

He was so fucked.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

So, okay, the thing about being fucked without _actually_ being fucked – a sad state of affairs as far as Tony was concerned because, really, there was only so many times he could jerk off without it getting kind of repetitive and chafing, even if he had a _superb_ fucking imagination and an almost completely perfect-in-every-way android learning to fucking _prowl_ around his bedroom with unsteady newborn baby legs that meant that he bumped into Tony _all the fucking time_ so that Tony was basically a walking hard-on at any given moment.

But, _anyway_, the thing about fucked was that it really messed with your head. Like, _a lot_. And not even in a good way, where you stayed up all night drinking Red Bull, playing Galaga, and just _blasting_ Queen's _A Night at the Opera_ through your speakers so that asshole TA who lived next door and who actually had the _nuts_ to say that Tony's math was wrong when Tony's math was _never_ fucking wrong (so much so that Tony was sure that one day someone somewhere would write a fucking _sonnet_ to how goddamn impeccable his math was) would stay up all night banging on the wall and slowly losing his mind to Freddy Mercury.

No, it _wasn't_ that kind of vindictively good messing with your head. Instead it was a messy, ridiculous, probably illegal in three states kind of mess with your head that Tony wasn't really sure what _do_ with other than ignore entirely. Or, okay, ignore _as best he could_ because at some point in the last few weeks Jarvis had perfected his smile for maximum devastation and holy _fuck _Tony was only human, okay.

He was only human and his dick could only take so much, even if he _was_ a hormonally charged teenager who's every other thought pretty much focused on making his cock happy. That, honestly, was pretty easy these days. Especially with someone like Jarvis basically blossoming into perfection in front of his very eyes _every single day_ and making the whole chafing issue a real problem.

But, at any rate, Tony wasn't really good at figuring out what exactly to do with all these fucked up emotions bubbling up inside him every time Jarvis mastered a new skill set and just generally exceeded expectations all over the place. Which, really, wasn't that surprising because not only was Jarvis a self-teaching, self-evolving artificial intelligence whose body had enough strength in it to bulldoze down a small fucking _building_ if he really wanted to, he also happened to look _really good_ in the three-piece suits he'd somehow managed to order without Tony knowing. Like, we're talking GQ levels of hotness, where just looking at him kind of melted your brain and lowered your IQ about a thousand points.

And, the funny thing about that was, Tony hadn't really set out to make Jarvis so fucking hot but apparently _Jarvis_ _had_ because even though Tony'd had a hand in building him, he hadn't been the one to choose how Jarvis looked in the end. It had all been Jarvis, who'd tweaked and tweaked and _tweaked_ Tony's work until he was satisfied with the outcome. Which basically boiled down to Jarvis being just Tony's type – and how fucked up was that? Tony hadn't even _realized_ he _had_ a type until Jarvis had come along and just kind of settled into Tony's life like he'd always been there.

Like he'd just been waiting for Tony to get his shit together and _build him already_ because he was tired of just being that half-thought out idea in the back of Tony's mind. Like he was ready to be a _real boy_ already, hello, _thank you_. And, holy fucking shit, that was kind of a scary thought for Tony because apparently…_apparently_…

He was more doomed than he'd first thought and that just wasn't fucking fair. Even if it was kind of awesome. Scary, but still awesome.

And, really, that was okay, because he was Tony _Fucking_ Stark and he could do or face anything. Up to and including one day maybe, possibly asking his unbearably hot cyber-android-AI-BFF on a date and dealing with all these _feelings_ he was having about him. But not today.

Today he was going to continue swimming in the waters of denial and enjoy being a teenage-genius-billionaire-MIT student who, like everyone else around there, had a really fucking smart computer for a friend.


	3. Chapter 3

_Forgive the delay on this part. I ended up coming down with a fairly nasty stomach virus and just didn't feel up to posting anything. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and I promise that at some point Tony and Jarvis *will* get out of Tony's dorm room. ;) _

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If Tony was in the habit of being honest with himself – which, you know, fuck that shit, he had enough issues to deal with without bringing things like _honesty_ and _self-awareness_ into the equation – he would have probably acknowledged a long time ago how extremely fucking pathetic his home life was. Like, we're talking, avoid-it-like-the-plague, oh!-is-that-a-butterfly-lets-follow-it-instead-of-going-home levels of pathetic. We're talking 'yeah, no, I'd better stay in the dorm and catch up on my science project even though the semester has ended and I have no science project but you don't know that do you?' levels of pathetic.

It hadn't always been that way. There had been a time – a _long_ fucking time ago – that Tony would have jumped at the chance to pack his bags and see his family, his father. But, yeah, that was long time ago. A _really_ fucking long time ago. So long ago, in fact, that it had been when he'd still thought his father had actually given a damn about him and his well being and was trying to do the whole 'sharing-and-caring' thing with him when he'd brought him on his yearly expeditions to the North Atlantic.

Turned out his father was just kind of a dick that cared more about some dead guy – okay, okay, Captain fucking America, apparently – than Tony. It was really fucking hard not to resent the guy for that, so Tony hadn't even tried. Not that his father had seemed to even give a flying fuck when Tony had started to refuse to go on those little trips – he'd just seemed strangely relieved. Like Tony was such a huge goddamn burden to have on his routine expedition. Christ, his father was such a _dick_.

But anyway, the whole point was, Tony had a home life he wasn't about to go home _to_ if he could possibly help it, so he basically had an entire student holiday – Tony wasn't really sure for what, they were past the Holiday holidays, and it wasn't Spring Break yet but fuck if he was going to complain about it – to just do whatever the hell he wanted. And that meant Jarvis. Or, okay, not Jarvis _exactly_, but it meant doing things _with_ Jarvis.

Which was almost as good. But not. At all. Kind of.

Anyhow, though, yeah. Doing things with Jarvis was only slightly less badass than doing unspeakable things _to_ Jarvis, which Tony pretty much fantasized about nonstop anyway, so it all evened out in the end. Or not, but whatever. Tony and Jarvis would get on the same page of _that_ book someday, probably sometime after Jarvis' learning curve wasn't quite so steep and Tony could last a little longer than the five seconds it took for him to curl his hand around his dick and gasp Jarvis' name while hiding in the bathroom. Because, really, he wasn't quite ready to explain _that_ part of human biology to Jarvis even if he probably already knew about it because, hello, self-evolving, self-teaching AI over here, he really didn't need any of Tony's help, thanks.

At least that's what Tony comforted himself with whenever Jarvis would turn to look at him, pale pink lips turning up into a smile that's just fucking _amazing_ and kind of _glowing_ at him like Tony's the best thing he's ever seen or _will_ _ever_ see. Like Tony's exasperating and funny and charming and cute and fucking brilliant and kind of an asshole but he _likes_ it. _Really_ likes it. Likes it so much that he's planning to stay around for the rest of Tony's life, even though technically that wasn't exactly what Tony made him for, at least not in the sense that Jarvis seemed to be putting out, but it's still good, great, fucking _astonishing, _and Tony wanted more of that every single day of the rest of his existence and maybe even beyond that too.

But Tony wasn't a fool. Or, he wasn't that big of a fool. They weren't there yet. Couldn't be there yet and he had to live in the right now and part of the right now was sitting in his room with his mind-blowing best-friend-slash-android working on schematics for a robotic arm that they couldn't build here in his tiny fucking dorm room at MIT but _could_ build the next time he was forced to go home and _deal_ with things like his father's absence and…well, his father's absence.

Though, really, with Jarvis around now, Tony wasn't sure that was going to be a problem anymore. That it was _ever_ going to a problem, ever again. Because with Jarvis…Tony wasn't alone anymore. And he really didn't know what he wanted to do about that.

Put a ring on it one day, maybe.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The thing about making friends his own age was that Tony sucked at it. Really sucked at it. Really, _really_ sucked at it.

He sucked at it so much, in fact, that he'd pretty much given up on making real friends with anyone his own age when he was somewhere around the age of seven and his mother, in some misguided attempt to make him more like other kids and _less_ like his father, had forced him to attend a birthday party for one of Stark Industries' employee's kids.

Disaster of epic proportions didn't really cover what had happened that day. It came pretty damn close, though, and in Tony's own defense, only one small fire truck had been needed to put the flames out. And, you know, no matter what his mother had said, it wasn't like the kid hadn't deserved to have his birthday cake and presents go up in a small but rather spectacular mushroom cloud of smoke and flame.

He'd been kind of a dick to everyone, including Tony, _especially_ Tony, even though Tony had been the only one there to bring him a half-way decent present. Not cheap toys like the rest of the kids or clothing he didn't even want from the parents. No, Tony had _painstakingly_ picked out something cool, something he hoped the other boy would like, only to have the little shit call him a 'freak' because Tony had _no fucking clue_ how to just be a kid and not…not Tony fucking Stark.

And, okay_, Jesus Christ_, he _knew_ he had issues, but still, the kid had gotten what he deserved and Tony wasn't going to regret it for one damn second.

Anyway, though, yeah, Tony wasn't _good_ at making friends. Or maybe it was that he wasn't good at _keeping_ friends, which was kind of a whole different ball park but whatever. He wasn't good at it, was the point.

Which was why it was kind of surprising and a little bit alarming to realize that, thanks to Jarvis, Tony might have _made_ another friend. Not like Jarvis, who was always going to be Tony's first-best-last but, apparently, not his only friend. No, it was most definitely different from _that_ whole 'situation' – and that's what Tony considered it: a 'situation'.

One that wasn't going to be solved overnight, even if sometimes he had dreams about it that were fairly x-rated and in full Technicolor so he woke up hard and aching. Desperate for a release from all the tension and the emotion and the sidelong looks that he sometimes thought Jarvis sent his way but were probably just a figment of his imagination. Wishful thinking that he just couldn't get past…

No, this new friend situation wasn't like that.

What it was, though, Tony wasn't really sure. It was kind of hard to tell with someone like Happy Hogan. After all, the first time he'd met the guy, it'd been when he was dragging Jarvis's dead-looking body back to his dorm in the middle of the night after a not-quite successful outdoor test-run and, really, he'd only had himself to blame for that.

Jarvis had warned him at least a dozen times about imminent power failure due to his not-quite-up-to-standard internal power source, but he just hadn't listened because it was thrilling as _hell_ to walk around campus with Jarvis in his sharp suit and tie, looking so fucking out of place and _beautiful_ next to Tony's own scuffed shoes and old faded Stark Expo t-shirt.

He was light and crisp next to Tony's dark and scruffy and Tony fucking _loved_ having people they passed see their differences and seeing them together. _Together_, not apart, but side by side. With Tony's shoulder brushing against Jarvis' upper arm because, right now, Jarvis was still a few inches taller than him and Tony really hoped he'd hit another growth spurt soon because, _goddammit_, he did _not_ want to be the short one in this relationship.

Anyhow, though, moving on, the first time he'd met Happy, he'd been dragging Jarvis's seemingly lifeless corpse back to his room because, even though they'd put on a burst of speed when Jarvis's voice had started to sound metallic and crackled like static over a microphone, they were still too fucking far away from the dorms when Jarvis had dropped like a marionette with its strings cut. Tony hadn't been able to do anything other than curse like a particularly pissed off sailor denied shore leave before he half dragged, half carried Jarvis's powered down body the rest of the way. And the really strange and fucked-up thing about it was, unlike most people, who would have probably run off screaming in the night at seeing some random guy dragging what looked like a gorgeous albeit seemingly dead body behind him, Happy had just shambled up to them, picked up Jarvis's feet, and asked where they were taking him.

They – not just Tony – _they_, like they were in this together. Like he was perfectly okay with helping some random overachieving MIT student he'd just _randomly_ met hide a body. And, okay, maybe Happy kind of looked like the type, what with his bloodied knuckles and busted lip, but still – _still_ – no one had ever bothered to do something like that for Tony.

Or, well, not someone who he didn't consider family.

Obie – Obadiah Stane – his dad's business partner and an old friend of the Stark family might have, but Tony figured that had more to do with his friendship with his father than any real feelings he had for Tony. Not to say that Tony thought Obie was a bad guy – he was nice to Tony and had never talked down to him like some of Howard's friends did – but still, Tony wasn't really sure he'd consider the guy family. As close to family as you could get, maybe, but not real family, and Tony wasn't even a hundred percent that Obie would've helped him himself and not just sent some people over to "disappear" the whole issue.

That some random guy like Happy, who didn't even seem to know who the fuck Tony was, had helped him by lugging Jarvis all the way back to his dorm and then into his room without expecting anything back other than maybe a glass of water because what the fuck had Tony been thinking when he'd built Jarvis's frame work? He was fucking heavy, and they were really going to have to fix that and his power issues sometime _really_ fucking soon because Tony's back wasn't going to survive this shit for much longer if he kept having to drag Jarvis around like a particularly expensive and snarky oversized piece of man-luggage…and well…

Tony might not have been good at making friends or keeping friends before Jarvis came along but he was going to make goddamn sure that Happy stayed around. Even if he had to pay the guy. Even if he had to pay the guy _and_ be his really good, though not his best because that was Jarvis's spot and Tony wouldn't have it any other way, friend.

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_This took me a while to write, mostly because it's really a transitional chapter. From here on out, there will be more characters introduced, more of Tony's school life, and more potential sexy times with Tony and Jarvis. I hope you enjoy!_


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